


Honor

by protect-him (protect_him)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Post-Kirkwall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-16 01:44:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12332964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protect_him/pseuds/protect-him
Summary: This one was really difficult, so my apologies. I may have time to go back and edit it later, but I'm going to be late for work, so here it is in its raw form. Day 10: Honor.





	Honor

“The sun has been up for hours, mage.”

“I don't wanna get up.”

The bed sheets rustled as Fenris emerged, rolling over so he was propped above Anders’ bundled-up form.

Golden sunshine fell on his head, turning his white hair to gold and illuminating a halo around him.

“Anders…”

Anders rolled over and gave Fenris a sleepy smile.

“I'm up, love.”

Fenris smiled gently but Anders held him in place before he could move away.

“You look…”

Fenris gave him a raised eyebrow.

“Like Andraste herself.”

Fenris snorted and collapsed on Anders’ chest.

“But prettier than Andraste.”

“You are just being silly now,” Fenris chided, playfully grabbing Anders chin and tapping their noses together.

“I’m serious!” Anders protested.

“Why don’t you get up and prove it, then?”

“Oh, fine. I will.”

Before he knew it, Fenris was being lifted up and carried into the kitchen, where Anders set him on the counter as he began preparing breakfast.

Fenris crossed his ankles and swung his feet, tapping his heels against the cupboards beneath the counter.

After breakfast, they went into the sun room. Fenris tended to the plants in this room, which acted as a sort of greenhouse, and then sat down to read while Anders painted.

After several hours, Fenris stretched and yawned, setting aside his book.

“Anders, it’s been a year since we left Kirkwall,” he said. “Do you still think you made the right decision?”

“Yes,” Anders said, without hesitation. “There are rebellions springing up all over, and the plights of mages are being recognized.”

Fenris smiled and stood up to come see what Anders was painting. He furrowed his brow.

“That’s…”

“You,” Anders said. “This is what you looked like this morning when you woke me up.”

Anders was painting Fenris with the sun illuminating his hair in a glowing halo. His smile was radiant.

“I think this restful lifestyle is getting to your brain,” Fenris said. “You’ve painted something happy for once, and that looks nothing like me.”

Anders laughed. “I am happy,” he said.

Fenris rolled his eyes. His mage was ridiculous.

They spent a pleasant afternoon together, just resting and relaxing. Fenris baked lunch and Anders made him a pie, but as the afternoon drew to a close, they decided to walk into the nearby town for a few drinks and dinner at the tavern.

The distance was a couple miles into town, but the time passed quickly as they walked together, hand in hand and discussed what they should do in the next year. Anders wanted a cat and Fenris wanted a garden.

“I could grow herbs,” Fenris suggested quietly, “for you. You could begin healing again. I know  you already do—in town. But you can start healing more regularly, out of our home. Or we could build a little clinic.”

Anders laughed a little at that, but admitted he did like the idea.

The owners at the tavern were used to Anders and Fenris now, the apostate healer and his frightening guard, though people in town were starting to realize that Fenris had a soft spot a mile wide and was really only protective of his mage. So long as Anders wasn’t in danger, Fenris would be relaxed and friendly.

They sat together at a secluded table. Anders had mead and Fenris had wine and they were talking softly while they waited for their food to arrive. The singer who was performing in the tavern stopped singing eventually and their conversation drifted slowly from topic to topic. They talked about how Anders’ new clinic would be run. Fenris insisted that Anders would need to ask for payment, though Anders felt bad about that. Then they talked about when they should get Anders the cat Fenris had promised him.

Their food came and they ate, still talking.

A few minutes later, the singer was replaced by another.

Fenris and Anders both fell silent as the man began to sing.

The man’s voice was rich and full, and he sang of a man who had changed the world with his vision of freedom. Neither Fenris nor Anders had heard this song before, but it soon became clear about whom the man sang. The song began with rather poignant and even shocking descriptions of the way mages were treated.

Anders glanced quickly to Fenris at this.

Fenris grinned back and reached across the table for Anders’ hand.

The song continued, the man’s voice soaring above the tavern’s now rapt audience.

He praised the man who had started the freedom of mages, whose sacrifice had started the rebellions that were leading to the exposure of the wrongs that had been taking place for centuries.

Anders looked around the room, worried that this topic would not be well received, but he was surprised to see that the townspeople—people he knew now after their year living nearby—were nodding in agreement and smiling.

“This song honors  _ you _ ,” Fenris whispered, squeezing Anders’ hand.

At the end of the song, the man took a surprising turn, singing about not the heroic apostate, but the elf who had stood by him in the dangerous moments following his act of defiance. Where many wanted to kill the hero, this single elf stood by him, a former slave and a man who knew too well what it was to be denied freedom.

The song ended with simply the rumor that the pair had escaped. Many thought they had died, but this singer seemed to hope otherwise.

Fenris was looking around the room now as well, worried that their descriptions matched the words of the song too closely.

Then he caught the eye of one of their neighbors, the blacksmith. He was a tall and broad man, with pale hair and a ready smile.

The singer finished, finding himself a seat across the room. In the silence following the song, as the listeners thought about what they’d heard, the blacksmith stood up, looking at Fenris as he did. He cleared his throat and Fenris paled. He turned to Anders.

“He knows,” he whispered, but Anders had no time to respond before the man began speaking.

“The rebellion has not much touched our town,” he said loudly to the others in the tavern, “but freedom is a right I think we can all agree should be given to everyone—elf, mage, and man. The strength to stand in support of this right and to defend the man who may have otherwise been killed on the spot—deserves our respect. I propose a toast to the apostate and the elf. Our town honors their sacrifice.” He raised his glass.

Fenris glanced nervously around, feeling Anders’ grip on his hand tighten.

Around the tavern, everyone else stood, glasses in hand.

Anders jumped to his feet, realizing that they were the only two seated. Fenris followed, grabbing his glass as he did.

More than just the blacksmith looked at Anders and Fenris as they raised their glasses, shouting heartily.

After this, the tavern fell quiet again as people resumed their meals and conversations. Fenris and Anders left, starting the walk back to their house.

“They know it’s us,” Fenris said quietly. “Some of them at least.”

Anders nodded. “Do you think it’s safe here?”

“Yes,” Fenris replied. He looked to Anders affectionately. “That song is being sung in taverns across Thedas,” he said. “It honors  _ you _ .”

Anders looked pensive.

“It’s strange to hear about it that way,” he said. “He mentioned you too.”

“I don’t know why…” Fenris muttered.

“You’re the reason I was able to escape,” Anders said. “I wouldn’t have been able to defend myself on the way out of Kirkwall without you by my side.”

Fenris pulled Anders close, stopping in the middle of the road.

“I want to be nowhere else but by your side,” he said. “My mage.”

Anders bent to kiss Fenris, his arms hugging the elf close. The rebellion may have been started by him, but without Fenris, Anders didn’t want to do anything. Together, they would live happily to see mages free, though Anders wanted to stay here, settling down with Fenris and simply listening to the news as it eventually passed through town. This was something he never imagined he could have, but here it was in his arms.  


End file.
